A Simple Man's Perspective
by Codexian
Summary: The Capital Wasteland is home to many denizens. Whether they be wasters, raiders, or mutants, life goes on with desperate hope for survival. For a simple scavenger named Conway, life as he knows it changes as the Lone Wanderer turns the the status quo upside-down. However, as the old saying goes, "Perspective is Everything."
1. A Simple Man with Simple Tastes

Author's Note: Before you begin, I would just like to note that this is my very-first fanfiction. I have little to no experience in the field of writing fan-fiction, but for this, I have given it my best shot. I am open to comments and critiques, so feel free to be honest. {I DO NOT own the rights to the Fallout Franchise or its likeness.}

 _War. War never changes._

In the late 21st Century, humanity fought ruthlessly for its few remaining natural resources: Petroleum and Uranium. In an effort to obtain these all-powerful resources, the United States and China would fight a bloody ground war that would determine no victor.

By October 23rd, 2077, the war to end all wars started and ended in two hours. The world was scorched by the fires of nuclear devastation and plagued by radiation for centuries. However, it was not the end to humanity's story. It was only the start of another bloody chapter for human history.

Humanity lives on in the year 2277, centuries after the Great War. In the ruins of the former capital of the free world, Washington D.C. continued to survive as a wasteland filled with impressive old-world relics, and even more impressive firepower. The Capital Wasteland is home to many communities of varying size and stature; slowly rebuilding their own little slice of civilization, so long as they can make their way through the hordes of raiders, slavers, and mutant monstrosities. Life itself is a daily challenge of survival. It is a bleak existence in an even bleaker world, at best. Hell, at worst. Few people are willing to trek into the ruins of metropolitan Washington D.C. and even fewer live to tell their story.

This is story of a simple scavenger named Conway. Born in the outskirts of Arlington in 2247, Conway was the son two traveling merchants that make their rounds all across the Capital Wasteland. It was by no-means an easy lifestyle. The never-ending traveling, the constant threat of raiding parties, the lack of permanent shelter; it molds the mindset for an impressionable child. Nonetheless, Conway did his best to assist his family in any way he needed to. He carried the family wares as his parents marketed junk to anyone with a pulse, he took shifts with his parents to stand guard over their camp, and he even become a barterer himself to seal a customer's deal. He didn't care about the hard work, for he cherished his family deeply. It was the only thing he was truly anchored to.

Time passed by, and soon Conway took over the family scavenging business when his parents became too old to traverse the rubble and debris. Unlike many in the wasteland, Conway's parents died of natural causes at the respective ages of 60 and 61. The life of a scavenger is not one for the weary, and it took its toll on their health. Now, at the ripe age of 30, Conway acts as a freelancer scavenger who reports to himself, and only himself; traversing the wide expanse that is the Capital Wasteland searching for treasures to make ends meet.

For that, Conway was a simple man with simple tastes, perfect for a simple scavenger. He needed clothing; brown trousers, a dirtied white t-shirt, trader's overcoat and combat boots suited perfectly for his rugged travels. He needed a weapon; his trusty combat shotgun found an old security office that worked nicely, even though it jammed on occasion would suffice. A small .38 handgun in his overcoat pocket couldn't hurt. Lastly, he needed a bag for his wares; his leather satchel found in a collapsed department store would do the trick. With gear in tow, Conway would get to work doing what his family did best, scavenging for junk.

Day in and day out, Conway would repeat the same routine. Wake up, get dressed, go scavenging, try not to die, and sell his findings before sundown. The only inconsistency of the day was where he was going to sleep that night. To many, that would be an inconvenience. To Conway, it was the most exciting part. That was when he had a choice to go where he pleased, rather than stay somewhere out of necessity. The best nights were when he had just enough caps to snag a room in Moriarty's Saloon in the makeshift town of Megaton. It just so happened that his weeks' worth of scavenging was going to net him enough caps for one week of rent. His satisfaction was beyond all comprehension, but he maintained a straight face as he counted the caps being exchanged to him. Without delay, Conway trekked diligently towards the mangled array of scrap and metal that formed the outer walls of Megaton. He immediately made his way towards the saloon, exchanging his hard-earned caps for a room with the silver-tonged owner, Colin Moriarty. 100 caps down, Conway entered his room, closed the door, threw his gear down and tossed himself onto the rickety, dirty mattress.

It didn't matter to him that the bed looked more worn than a raider's boot, it felt like lying down on a cloud. Any mattress is better than a concrete slab. Within mere seconds, Conway drifted off to sleep, smiling to himself. He would enjoy every minute of his rest, for tomorrow was another day.


	2. Managing Inventory

August 17th, 2277

With weary eyes, almost saddened by the fact he was awake again, Conway lifts his reluctant body out of bed. The brown-greenish tint of the saloon didn't differ that much from that of outside, but he rubbed his eyes in an attempt to see better anyway. He didn't really remember that much after he entered the town, but he could tell that he was in the saloon. With quick haste, Conway put his overcoat back on, heaved the leather pack over his shoulder, and returned his combat shotgun back to his sling. He made all sorts of noise coming down the stairs, but nobody minded. Scavengers and merchants alike always carried the same weight as a pack-Brahmin. Exiting through the front door, the bright light hit Conway in the face; nearly blinding him. However, after a few seconds, his eyes were able to re-adjust to the outside light. He leaned forward against the railing in front of the bar, and looked out over the town.

The settlers were all about their own business. They were working, eating, sitting, and doing ordinary things for ordinary wastelanders. Their sheriff patrolled the area, keeping a watchful eye for trouble. The town preacher was spouting his sermons to the sky, being loud enough for all to hear. Despite standing in a knee deep puddle, he raised his hands to the sky and kept shouting, with no one stopping him.

"Behold! He is coming with the clouds! And every eye shall be blind with his glory. Every ear shall be stricken deaf to hear the thunder of his voice. Let the men, women, and children of the Earth, come forth, to gather, and behold of the Power of Atom!" The preacher yelled.

It should probably be mentioned that the town of Megaton is built around the crater of an un-detonated nuclear bomb. The "puddle" that the preacher, Confessor Cromwell, is standing in, is a large irradiated pool of water sitting underneath the un-detonated bomb. Otherwise known as "King of the Wackjobs", Confessor Cromwell spouted more and more about the "glory of atom".

"What a delusional man." Conway mumbled under his breath. "I will never get why someone would worship a nuke, much less as stand near one."

As amusing as it was to watch the Confessor rant some more, Conway thought it best to stock up on some supplies before going out into the wastes that day. Megaton's own Craterside Supply always had what he needed, not to mention his favorite tinker owned the place. He proceeded down the scrap metal ramps to the shop, and opened the door. Sure enough, Craterside Supply's eccentric owner was there, sweeping the floors.

"Oh, Moira!" Conway exclaimed. "I'm back!"

Moira looks up from her sweeping to see Conway standing in the door. She drops the broom and shrieks with delight. She almost stumbles over her blue RobCo. jumpsuit trying to make her way to him. She wraps her arms around him and shakes him all about, grinning and making as many happy noises as she can. Conway smiles, but doesn't try resisting.

Back when Conway was still a kid, his traveling family merchant business would often take him to Canterbury Commons; a small community on the eastern side of the Capital Wasteland. It was a major transit zone for merchants of all varieties. One of the times he traveled there, he noticed a slightly younger girl by herself reading a book against a building. Her scarlet red hair stood out against the browns, blacks and greys that usually adorned heads. After a nervous introduction, Conway and Moira would soon become good friends. Both of them were tinkers and learned from their families important repair skills. She would always try to build a wacky invention to lecture Conway about it, but he never minded. He was finally able to connect with another person besides his parents. However, with traveling merchants for parents, all situations are short-lived. He pledged to always see Moira once a year, if the trade business was lucky. For the most part, he has kept his promise; and it was even better when she moved to Megaton.

"Eeeeee!" Moira squealed with excitement, still bear-hugging Conway. "I didn't know you were coming to town! I would've straightened the place up more had I known!"

Moira quickly picks up the broom and tosses it behind a shelf, grinning out of nervousness.

"Ah, it's alright be me, Moira! It's a lot cleaner than Moriarty's that's for sure." Conway said reassuringly. "I was in town for some R&R, and I thought I would come by and say hi. Maybe grab some gear before I head out again." He stated as he cradled his combat shotgun, while reaching for his leather satchel.

"Well you know you came to the right place!" She pointed out with glee. "That is, if you got what I need…" She says with a slight purr to her voice.

Conway grins as he reaches into his leather satchel to pull something out.

"Oh, I got what you need right here…" Conway says playfully. He pulls out a conductor and a fire-hose nozzle and sets them on the shop counter. "Just what you asked for: one conductor, and a fire nozzle. You're welcome." He says smugly.

Moira quickly grabs the items and inspects them. Her expression is serious, and analytic. It always worried Conway when Moira did that, he didn't want to see her disappointed. After a moment or two of silence, Moira smiles and places them on the shelves behind her.

"This is wonderful! I am so close to getting all the parts! Thank you Conway!" She gratefully expressed. "Now, I assume you didn't do this for charity, so what would you like for the parts?"

"Hmm. Let me think…" Conway pondered.

Conway knows Moira has the caps for payment, but he is more interested in that Vault-Tec jumpsuit hanging on the wall behind her. It wasn't any old Vault jumpsuit, but an armored one, reinforced with leather! Sure it looked a little bit tight, but Conway thought he would look dashing in it.

"How about that jumpsuit on the wall? I'm sure that's totally worth those two very important items you requested." Conway says half-jokingly, but half-seriously.

"Oh, Conway! You are such a clown. Of course you can't have it. It's a client's order, I'm just waiting for them to pick it up!" She declares with pride. She puts her hands on her hips stating, "How about 40 caps for the two?"

 _Well that's obviously much worse than my offer. Let's sweeten the deal_ … "Let's make it 50." offered Conway. "I had to trek all the way to the RobCo. factory just to find that conductor!" He exclaims.

Moira thinks about it, and shrugs. "Why not? You have been a very good fetcher for me over the years. Now how about you spend some of those caps here?" She remarks.

You may be scatter-brained, Moira, but you certainly are a saleswoman... Conway nods his head in agreement. "Alright, alright, I give in. Let's do some business. You got any shotgun shells on stock? Some of that pre-war food if you got any would be great. Oh! And a stimpak would be the bee's knees!" He declares, soon after having a regretful look his face.

 _Did I just say that…?_

Moira rolls her eyes and gives a smirk as she lines up the products on the counter. "There you go, I got 10 shotgun shells, a can of pork'n'beans with some cram, and one stimpak."

Conway's eyes widen in delight. This is why he loves Megaton. He reaches towards the shells, when Moira slaps his hand away. He looks back at her confused.

"Nope. Payment first, Conway. That's store policy." She says seriously as her arms are crossed.

Conway laughs nervously. "My bad, Moira. How much do yo-"

She cuts him off. "50 caps, and no, you may not get a discount." She looks him in the eyes and grins, knowing fully well she won.

Conway sighs, and takes the items. He looks longingly at the bag of red Nuka-Cola bottle caps that was intended for him, but realizes it's for the best. He places the shells in his pants pockets, and the food and stimpak in his satchel. "Just use my in store-credit… I know I have some." He concedes. He looks back at her defeated, but empowered. "Alright, I need to go out and make my living. I'll be back in a couple days."

As Conway is about to head out the door, she tries to flag him down.

"Wait!" exclaims Moira. "Before you go, do you want to help me with my survival guide? I have finally planned all the sections I want for it, but I need an assistant to test them for me."

Conway sighs and tries to look for a way out. Moira is his friend, so he doesn't want to crush her dreams. However, he remembers quite fondly about the last "assistant" that took the job….

"I'm sorry Moira, I can't right now. I need to be as fit as I can be for scavenging right now. If I make some serious caps on this outing, I can come back to help you. But, I am sure someone will help you out really soon. Who else would pass up an offer like yours?" He reassures her.

While initially disappointed, Conway's reassurance perks her back up to her giddy self. "You're right! I just need to be patient. Ooh! I know! I'll go prep the survival items! That way whoever takes the job can start immediately! Thanks Conway!" She shouts as she runs upstairs in her building.

Conway shakes his head in disbelief, chuckling as he walks out of the store. He proceeds to make his way to the entrance of the town and waits for the main door to open while he hears some commotion going on near the crater in town. As he goes to look, he can see a man wearing a Vault-Tec jumpsuit talking with the Sheriff. The man looks young, perhaps in his late teens or early twenties. He has a 10 mm pistol attached to his waist, but it is holstered.

 _The Sheriff and the man with the Vault Suit seem to be having a civil conversation, so there's no reason to stick around here…_

With a kick in his step, Conway readies his shotgun and exits Megaton to begin his daily routine. He heads toward the abandoned ruins of Fairfax. Although he couldn't stop thinking to himself about that man who entered town. Something seemed different about him. He couldn't put his finger on it…

 _Wait, wasn't that the same number on Moira's jumpsuit?_


	3. All Quiet on the Fairfax Front

August 17th, 2277 - 1:30 P.M.

After an hour and a half of walking, Conway approaches the ruins of Fairfax. Fairfax wasn't damaged as badly as the surrounding area was, either because it was farther from Washington D.C., or it wasn't considered a target of interest. Either way, the city had several large intact buildings, and numerous smaller, destroyed buildings just ripe for the taking. Many of them had been boarded up after the war, but after 200 years of scavengers, many of the buildings there have been opened in some regard and used as shelters for wastelanders. As Conway remembered it, it was full of scavengers and communities trying to sell their finds to one another. Although, Conway had to admit that was a year ago now.

Although, when he finally entered the city limits, something was off. All the scavengers were gone. There wasn't a soul walking around the ruins. The concrete monoliths of the city's buildings provide shade on the ground level. It was completely silent, only the hot irradiated wind blew past to make any noise. That was never a good sign.

Conway pulled out his Combat Shotgun and loaded it. He had eight shots before he would need to reload. He hugs a wall that follows a sidewalk leading up to a former office building. He still hears nothing but his own footsteps; and even then he is trying not hear that. He counts to three, and clears his corner. Nothing. Again. He walks up the street, lowering his guard and looks around. The streets are so empty, you can see the dust particles go by. Suddenly, a rattling sound is made to his far right. It sounds like jingling metal.

Conway dives behind a concrete road barricade and takes aim with his Combat Shotgun. His eyes do not leave from where the sound came from. His finger ready to pull the trigger and release a load of 12 gauge death. The rattling sound gets closer, and closer. Conway's heart starts to pound and sweat beads down his forehead. The noise sounds like grunting and more metal crackling. His aim begins to falter when the noise leaves the alley where it's coming from.

To his surprise, it is just a large mutated mole rat playing with some tin cans. He raises his head over the barricade and looks with confusion at the playful mole rat. It appears the mole rat is kicking the chain of cans along the road while trying to bite them. He pulls back his shotgun and watches the mole rat.

Aw. That's kinda cute… I didn't know mole rats liked to play. Wait, why are the tin cans tied together? The only reason they would be is t-

The mole rat, now in the middle of the road, steps on what looked like a brown rock. With a loud click, and a single beep, the playful mole rat explodes into a bloody carcass as parts rain from the sky. Conway ducks as soon as the explosion occurs. He grabs his shotgun and prepares himself.

Someone has booby-trapped the road. Mines? Tied tin-cans? They were waiting for someone to walk that way from the north. That would've been me if I didn't cut through the barricades… Damn it!

Within moments of the explosion, three raiders jump out from hidden positions with guns drawn. They meant to ambush the survivors of the trap, although they are disappointed to see it was a mole rat that died. They don't seem to notice him yet. Conway tries to control his breathing, but he is slowly slipping in and out of panic. From behind his concrete barrier, he pops his head out to scope out his situation. He notes there are three of them. There's a spazzy, skinny man with googles and no shirt brandishing a flamer on his back. There's a female raider in a scantily clad metal armor cradling an assault rifle in her arms. Then there's the big fella. A large tall raider with no hair and tire rubber for armor wields a large sledgehammer. Conway can hear them faintly talking to one another.

"Damn it all to hell! Piss-finger! I thought we had ourselves a prize! Not some rat with tin cans! I'm starting to feel the withdrawal again….Damn it!" The skinny raider screams.

"Hush now, Shakes. We'll just set the trap again. Go fetch another mine from storage and place it down! Hey, Lug, clean up the bits. We can't let anyone see what happened here, got it?" The female commanded.

It was obvious to Conway, the female was in charge of this group.

"Princess…why did rat have to 'splode? He only wanted to play…" Lug, the large raider, sadly remarked.

The female raider, Princess, smacks Lug over the head with her gun even though he is at least a foot taller than her. She kicks the remains away herself.

"The rat is dead, Lug! D-E-A-D. Get used to it! I don't have all goddamn day to hear you bitch over a rat! Clean it up, or Lug goes back to the cage!" She threatened.

"NO! NOT THE CAGE!" Lug exclaims. He quickly uses his hammer to clean all the bits away while "Princess" monitors him. Shakes, the skinny one, returns shortly with another mine.

"I got one, P-P-Princess! All we need to do is set the charge!" Shakes proudly states. He sets the charge down and backs away from it.

"Good. Now how about we-"She stops to listen to the area. "Did you hear that?" She asks.

Conway had lost his footing crouching behind the concrete barricade. He had fallen over and his pack made all sorts of noise. He tried to be as still as possible, not even moving to see if he is exposed. Princess locates the noise and sees a short area of brown hair sticking out from behind the barricade. She smiles and grips her assault rifle.

"Hey fellas..." She points towards the barricade and nods. They all grin devilishly and brandish their weapons.

"It's playtime boys!" Princess yells. She unleashes a hail of bullets aiming at the concrete barricade. Bits and chips begin to fling off of the concrete as it takes more bullets. Lug, meanwhile, tries to flank around on the left, while Shakes activates his flamer on the right. Conway knows he can't raise himself up or he will get shot. He grips his shotgun tightly and thinks. Decisions…

Lug tries to charge the barricade from the left. His yell pierces the sky. Luckily for Conway this is the perfect open target. Taking aim, Conway fires three shells at Lug from behind the barricade. The first two chew his legs apart, forcing his massive build to fall under its own weight. The third hit him squarely in the chest as he collapsed, tearing a hole right through him. He falls and groans slightly before exhaling for the last time.

Shakes panics at the sight of dying Lug and fires his flamer towards Conway. Conway can feel the heat and napalm from the flamer stick to the opposite side of the barricade. Although, due to Shakes' chem withdrawal, it looks like he has an issue focusing his fire. Unable to look around the barricade left side, Conway rises up and shoots his shotgun twice at Shakes. The first shot misses entirely, but the second shot had a…unintended effect. The flamer backpack exploded as it was struck by the shell, engulfing Shakes in flames. He screamed as his skin started to slowly char and peel from his body. He ditches the backpack and tries to put himself out to no avail. He panics and starts running around the area, but in his panic, he steps on his own land mine blowing him literally off his feet. The gore is absolutely everywhere, and the area reeks of burnt flesh.

Princess, while infuriated, takes her chance to shoot Conway. She rattles off five shots, but only two make their mark. One grazes by Conway's left torso, while the other goes straight through his left arm; his stabilizing arm. Conway cries out in pain and collapses against the barricade. He clutches his bleeding arm and slumps against the concrete wall. From what he can see that the bullet went out the other side, but his left arm will be out for the count soon enough. He'll need to make a decision about that raider closing in… Princess takes the opportunity to move in for the kill, but slows as she sees the man's body slump over. Not noticing any breathing, she kicks the combat shotgun away from Conway; going to take it for herself. As she bends over to grab it, Conway slides the .38 revolver from his overcoat and fires with his right arm. Two rounds to the back later, Princess crumbles to the floor, paralyzed from a bullet impact to her spine.

Conway recovers slowly, using the concrete barrier as a support to lift himself up. He sits up, and opens up his satchel for bandages. Finding them, he dresses his wound and patches himself up for the moment. He will need a doctor when he returns to Megaton. Conway walks over to the still twitching body of Princess. Her upper body movements indicate she is still alive, but unable to move.

 _I could kill her right now. She's suffering, she'll only die a slow and painful death otherwise. Yet, she tried to kill me. Why should I show her mercy? Maybe…_

Conway picks up his combat shotgun and slings it over his shoulders. With .38 in hand, he presses it to Princess' temple. He has a choice to show mercy, but he can take it away. To him, Princess has a choice too.

"You. Do you want to die?" Conway questioned as he pressed the gun further into her head.

Princess nods very slowly, her eyes trained on the weapon at her head. Her tears evident as she nods. She utters a very soft whisper. "Yes."

Conway releases the pressure from her temple and pulls the gun away.

"Then I want something in return." Conway proposed. "Where do you keep your loot stash?"

Princess feebly points to the alleyway adjacent from where the mole rat came from. Her hand shaking as she lies on her stomach. Conway moves closer to where he can see in the alley. There is a collection of ammo containers and water bottles next to a bloody mattress. Nothing looks rigged, or busted, so he returns to Princess and keeps his promise. With his .38, he fires one round at her head, splattering it on the dusty pavement.

 _It was not mercy in the traditional sense, but she is now at peace. In hell. That's three bullets down the drain for me._

Conway loots through the now devastated campsite to find three shells for his shotgun and two bottles of purified water. He wondered as to where raiders found pure water, but after seeing the meat pile in the corner, he didn't want to know. As he was about to leave, Conway noticed something underneath the bloody mattress.

It was a journal. Apparently, the journal belonged to Princess. As he read, there was a detailed description as to a plan of attack by raiders on Fort Independence. If he remembered correctly, the Brotherhood had a division there. What were they called? Outsiders? Outliers? Outcasts? It was Outcasts, definitely. Regardless, the plan took note that dozens of raiders would be arriving to Fairfax soon.

That was more than enough for him to know. He tosses Princess' journal on the still burning corpse of Shakes. With that in mind, he quickly sets back off for Megaton. He does not want to be around when the raiders take over Fairfax. Given what Princess described in her journal, no one is going to want to be around in Fairfax soon enough.

 _And to think I almost didn't complete step four of my daily routine…_


End file.
